


The Cave

by bewaretheboojum



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 12:38:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11185299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bewaretheboojum/pseuds/bewaretheboojum
Summary: Tim's having trouble meditating.





	The Cave

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for Detective Comics 940.

The hot summer breeze kicked up a small red dust devil in the path in front of Tim. The dull buzz of insects almost drowned out the slow flow of the river that ran just down the hill from the path Tim followed. With no small measure of relief, Tim gingerly slipped off the hot, sun-beaten path, bare feet curling in the cool grass as he made his way down the bank towards the river.

The monastery, fading out in the distance as Tim pushed forward, hadn’t changed a bit since the last time Tim had been there. It's stone walls, shady fruit trees and the low hum of chanting monks were still all so familiar. Even the smell of the sun warmed stone and thick pungent incense was exactly the same as Tim remembered. 

Still aching somewhat from his long captivity with Mr. Oz, Tim had sought out the monastery again in an effort to center himself. The months he spent trapped in a glass cage left him feeling off balance and discontent. Tim couldn't focus, he couldn't sleep, he couldn't… he couldn't relax back into the life he had before that cold dank chamber. 

Tim was hoping a return to the monastery would help with that. If Tim was being honest with himself, Tim was hoping that Connor would also help him with that.

Tim had met Connor Hawke when he first started out as Robin. He wanted to learn a series of advanced meditation techniques that Batman hadn't felt qualified to teach Tim. So Bruce sent him to the Ashram where Connor was living to live and learn for a few months.

When Tim had arrived, Connor had taken an interest in Tim and helped him learn and advance his understanding of various meditation techniques.They had kept in touch with letters and postcards but they hadn't seen each other in person for more than a year. Tim hadn't even told him what happened with Oz...

When Connor met Tim at the gate of the monastery this morning, he smiled at Tim as if he had only been gone an afternoon rather than such a long time. Even though Tim hadn't seen him in months, Connor hadn't changed a bit. He had the same soft smile, the same warm green eyes, the same sun kissed, dusky skin. Even his voice was the same, soothingly familiar tenor Tim remembered.

Seeing Connor again made Tim feel a measure of peace that he hadn't felt when Tim walked back through the doors to Wayne Manor...

Shaking his head, Tim pushed those thoughts aside and concentrated on making his way down a small game trail that led through the brush lining the river. It took Tim another 10 minutes of careful walking to make it to the top of the waterfall. Using exposed roots and small rock outcroppings, Tim climbed down to the bottom of the waterfall.

The waterfall wasn't large, maybe 10 feet high. Tim figured it hadn't rained in several days, because the flow of the river and the falls was slower than it was after a storm.

Tim had meditated here in the past, side by side with Connor. Letting the sound and feel of the water pull them into deep meditative states. This place was the one they went to most often to meditate outside of the monastery. Tim felt like he could probably find his way back here in the dead of night with his eyes closed. It was one of the places Tim thought about most when he was locked inside the...

Biting his lip, Tim shook his head and focused back on where he was. He focused back on the sunshine and the breeze and the water flowing over smooth river stones.

Tim stripped to his boxer briefs. Mindful of the moss slick rocks, Tim picked his way to the base of the small falls. Slipping under the frigid water, Tim shivered briefly. He found the rock he usually sat on to meditate under the falls fairly quickly, it hadn’t moved an inch since he had been here last. Settling cross legged under the flow of water, Tim shut his eyes and folded his hands on his lap.

The spring fed river was frigid, even in the height of summer and Tim had to fight past the brain freeze before he could reach into his mind to try to find...

To try to find the space in his head where he usually found that deep sense of peace, that sense of balance. Tim knew it was there. He could feel the edges of the deep contentment pushing at the busy rush of his mind. It was there. He knew it was there. Tim could feel it there, just out of reach...

It felt almost ephemeral, like the light sweep of feathers against the very tips of his fingers. Or like trying to catch smoke in his cupped hands. Tim kept trying, grasping, brushing, reaching for the space in his head that would take him past the gnawing tension in his shoulders to the place where he could relax, where he could feel peace, where he could feel…

At peace. At home.

After almost half an hour of struggling to keep his breathing even, his shivering to a minimum and the brain freeze at bay while he sought that small inner sense of peace inside himself, Tim gave up.

Sighing deeply, Tim ducked back out of the cold spray and leaned against the slick, sun warmed rocks at the base of the falls. Closing his eyes, Tim gently hit the back of his head against the rocks repeatedly before slouching down to sit in the moss. Taking a deep breath, Tim looked out down the stream to the rush of water breaking hard against slick rocks.

Tim reached back with a hand to rub at his shoulder muscles, tight with stress and cold. His muscles felt hard as a rock, and Tim shook his head at the futility of trying to relax.

It had been just the same at back in Gotham. No matter where he was, who he was with, what he was doing, Tim couldn’t seem to relax anymore. Movie nights with Cass, Harper and Steph, beers with Jay, breakfast with Dick, no matter where he was, Tim couldn't seem to let go of the tension. Or that underlying fear that seemed to dog him everywhere he went. 

Tim had thought that coming back here would help but…

But maybe he was past help at this point.

Rubbing his still dripping face vigorously with his still cold hands, Tim shook the water from his bangs before standing back up and looking around. He had to climb on top of a large rock and stand on his tiptoes before he could catch a glimpse of the trail he had come down on.

Connor had said he would meet Tim later in the afternoon, but there was no sign of him yet. There was no sign of anyone.

Tim wasn’t sure he felt relieved or disappointed. 

Sliding down off the rock, Tim moved back towards the falls. He could hear the rushing water echoing back against the inner walls of a cave that had formed just behind the falls and…

Bats liked caves right? And no matter how exactly he was feeling about Bruce these days, Tim could never deny that he was drawn to bats.

Tim moved delicately past the falls and waded through the frigid, hip-deep water. The pool inside the cave rapidly shallowed and Tim made his way into the damp confines.

The sunlight that did reach inside the cave flickered in time with the falling water. Tim hadn't ever been inside of the cave before. He had mostly been focusing on his meditations and hadn't taken the time to explore. 

The inside of the cave wasn't large. The top of the cave was only about 7 foot high and maybe 10 foot deep. As it moved back, the ceiling rapidly sloped off into only a foot or so of space above the floor. The sound of the falling water echoed slightly through the space, but it was mostly muted by the thick layer of moss covering the walls and ground. The moss felt soft and a little slick against Tim’s feet and he curled his toes into it as he moved around the area.

There were no bats in this cave, just few salamanders, dark and curling near small pools of water. Crooking his mouth wryly, Tim thought that he felt a bit more at home with salamanders than bats these days.

Sitting down on the damp moss, Tim took a deep breath of cool, moist air. Titling his head back, Tim closed his eyes and just listened listened to the muted echo of the falls throughout the cave.

It wasn't until he heard and interruption in the flow of the water that he realized Connor had finally come down from the monastery to meet him.

“Gave up on meditating?” Connor asked with his warm, familiar smile.

Connor was also stripped to his underwear. Water beaded on his dark skin and flowed in rivulets around the goosebumps that were scattered across his chest and arms.

Tim leaned his hands back behind him and rested his weight on his arms as he let his head loll a little on his shoulders and shook his head.

“Having a little trouble focusing these days…”

Connor’s thick blond eyebrows furrowed slightly as he walked over and sat down next to Tim.

“That’s new,” he said. 

Tim nodded and took a deep breath before answering.

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

Silence stretched between the two of them for a few long moments before Connor pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Something happened,” Connor ventured. “I haven't heard from you in a while.”

Tim nodded again and tried to think of where to start. It hard to pick a spot. Everything that had happened in the past year or so seemed to bleed together in a huge mishmash that brought Tim inevitability to… 

Slowly, haltingly at first, Tim told Connor about the drones. He told Connor about how sure he felt that he would die in that moment. That he had tried to make peace with that, put couldn’t really. He told Connor about the flash of light. He told Connor about the cold, stomach churning emptiness of being transported. He told Connor about cell. He told Connor about the escapes...

When he was a prisoner, Tim didn't let himself think about how long he was trapped. He didn't let himself count the number of times he escaped.

Now, in the darkened, damp confines of the cave, with Connor warm and quiet beside him, Tim went over every attempt. He told Connor about each time he figured out a way to get out, every plan he ever had, every time he succeeded…

And every time he was captured again, sometimes miles, sometimes feet away from his cell. Every time that freezing flash engulfed him again and brought him right back to where he was. 

His voice cracked hard in his throat when he told Connor that he hadn't let himself hope that someone would come for him. And how that was a good idea because no one had come. He told Connor that Bruce had never looked for him, Dick had never looked for him, Jason had never looked for him. Harper, Steph and Cass hadn't looked for him.

Tim told Connor how he had come home to a place that felt strange and alien to him now. How home didn’t feel like home and how family didn’t feel like family and how peace was hard to find. He told Connor about how he couldn’t sleep anymore. How he couldn’t fix his sleep cycles. How he always woke up with a start, heart pounding and palms sweating. 

He told Connor about how much he hated closed doors now. He'd never thought about them before, but now… Now he couldn't sleep with his bedroom door shut. He couldn't work in his tiny office. He couldn't even stay in the shower for more than ten minutes before he…

Before he had to leave.

He talked about how different everyone had been since he had come back. How much everyone has changed. How strange it was to see a memorial case for himself in The Cave. How Brace couldn't look him in the eye. How Dick just kept saying sorry he was. How Jason kept asking if he was ok. How Harper kept looking at him with regret. How Cass kept hugging him every time she saw him. How angry Steph seemed to be at everyone. Even him, sometimes. 

He told Connor about how even Damian seemed to change since he was gone. Damian seemed older, quieter, more reserved, less annoying than he had been. Less likely to pick a fight. 

“I feel like… I feel like maybe you're the one thing in my life that hasn't changed…” Tim said, turning to look at Connor.

Connor nodded and was quiet for a long moment before responding.

“I don't know if that is the way to look at it,” Connor said.

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe it is you that changed so much and the world, the people around you, are adapting to that.”

“But that's my point. Maybe I’ve changed. But they didn’t need to change in response. You didn't change. You aren't sitting here looking at me like… like I don't what…”

“You think I'm not adapting, not changing?”

“No, not really. This? Being with you. Being at the monastery, feels like it always has.”

“Not to me…”

“Not to you?”

Connor turned to face him. His green eyes flickered with the changing light as he locked eyes with Tim. 

“No,” Connor said, softly and seriously. “Not to me.”

Tim wasn't sure how to respond. He swallowed hard and tried to decide how what Connor said made him feel. 

Before he even began to figure it out, Connor reached out and cupped Tim’s cheek with a warm, damp hand. Tim almost jumped in surprise when Connor leaned over and pressed his mouth softly to Tim’s.

Connor’s lips were soft and warm, he tasted like the waterfall, like the summer, like fresh fruit and the wind. Tim closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss and the rush of water was almost drowned out by the roaring in his ears. 

It was hard to breathe, hard to think, hard to understand why Connor would… 

When Connor even thought... 

Years and years of friendship and Connor had never even hinted that he had thought about anything elses. His smiles were always warm, always friendly, always kind. Those smiles never even suggested that Connor was thinking about anything other than just spending that moment with Tim. 

Connor had always seemed so zen-like. He was never ruffled by anything, never angry, never annoyed, never anything but at peace. That made it hard to learn how to read him.

But now, here in the flickering light of this cave, with Connor’s quickened breaths puffing lightly against Tim’s mouth as he breathed between kisses... Now, with Connor’s hands trembling against Tim’s cheek... Now, with the hot press of the smooth, slick skin of Connor’s chest against, Tim’s, Tim could feel how hard Connor’s heart was pounding. 

And there, in that cool damp cave with Connor Hawke holding him close and kissing him so gently, Tim felt like that safe, peaceful place inside of himself was something he could maybe reach again. He felt like…

He felt like maybe after all these weeks, he was finally home.

**Author's Note:**

> This is sort of a prelude to a longer story I've been working on. The upshot of this is that I miss Tim and Connor. They need to be bros again. Broooooos!
> 
> PS - I'm kinda new to the Tumblr thing. I mostly just lurk right now, but it'd be rad to have some DC ficcish friends. I'm bewaretheboojum there too. Feel free to friend me if you want!


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